


Could You Be an Angel?

by FagurFiskur



Series: 30 (more) cheesy tropes [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aliens, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Milking, Sex Toys, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4967428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Castiel is an alien who abducts Dean, and probing may or may not be on the agenda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could You Be an Angel?

**Author's Note:**

> 30 (more) cheesy tropes: #23 Alien AU
> 
> Title from E.T. by Katy Perry because of course. Blame avyssoseleison for the part with the tentacles.

Dean was not moping. He was thinking. Contemplating, maybe. Considering.

"You're moping," Jo told him. She sounded like she was giving him a judgmental face, but it was difficult for Dean to tell. She kept swaying. "And I'm cutting you off."

Dean scoffed. "You can't cut me off."

"Give me one reason why not."

Dean had plenty of reasons. It was just difficult to think of them right now. He looked down at the empty glass in his hand, then back at Jo. "C'mon."

"Very persuasive," Jo said dryly. "But I'm still cutting you off. You'll thank me tomorrow when you still have a functioning liver."

"Who cares?" Dean whined. All right, so maybe he was moping a little. But he felt he was entitled. Wasn't every day his girlfriend of six months dumped him.

Jo ruffled his hair. "I do. Now, I need to go take care of the other customers. Can I trust you to stay still for ten minutes until I come back and take you home?"

Dean was pretty sure he should be making some wildly inappropriate comment, but before he could think of one Jo was gone. He slumped against the counter.

"Excuse me?"

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Dean looked to its owner. It was a stranger, and not someone he could remember seeing in the Roadhouse before. "Yeah?"

"Would you be willing to donate some biological samples?"

Dean blanched. Was the guy  _hitting on him_? It sounded like a line, if a weird and off-putting one. Ignoring the heat rising in his face (the guy was kind of hot, far as Dean's blurry vision could tell) "Hate to tell ya buddy, but it's not that kind of bar."

The guy frowned. His hand was still on Dean's shoulder. "I don't understand."

"You might wanna try somewhere a little glitzier," Dean said. "Y'know, some place with a disco ball and rainbow flags, all that shit."

"What would that-" the guy stopped short. "Is that a no, then?"

Dean opened his mouth, fully planning on turning the guy down, but somewhere between his brain and his mouth his answer turned into, "I didn't say that."

"So it's a yes?"

"I didn't say that either."

The hand on Dean's shoulder tightened its hold. Dean swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "I don't mean to hurry you, but I need your express permission as soon as possible. If you intend to tell me no, please do so now so I can ask someone else."

If Dean weren't so drunk, this would be enough to set off warning bells in his head. But he was that drunk, and the guy looked hot enough, and his grip was strong enough, to overwhelm whatever common sense Dean had left. "Okay then."

"Okay?" the guy repeated.

"I mean, yes, whatever, let's do this."

"Good."

The guy raised the hand not on Dean's shoulder, pressing two fingers against Dean's forehead, and Dean's world dissolved into light.

 

The first thing Dean was aware of was a sharp, throbbing pain in his temples. It felt like someone had reached into his skull and put a vice around his brain. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tighter.

"Are you all right?"

"Head," Dean managed, "hurts."

Something soft touched his forehead, and the ache disappeared in an instant, leaving Dean almost dizzy with it. It wasn't just his head that stopped hurting, but  _every_ part of him, even his bum knee. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times as he got used to the light. There was a guy standing over him, leaning just a little bit too close, and behind him Dean could see nothing but white.

"You've been unconscious for ten hours," the guy said.

Dean blinked again, a thousand questions running through his mind. "Where- what- who are you?" he finally settled on.

"My name is Castiel. Do you remember why I brought you here?”

“Brought me...” 

He remembered being at the bar, drunk off his ass because Cassie had dumped him to take a job in New York. He remembered being approached by this hot stranger, who fed him the weirdest line he’d ever heard. Then... light.

Dean shot up. Or he tried to, but something was pinning him down, keeping him horizontal. “ _What the hell?_ ”

“Calm down,” Castiel said. “I just need some samples, then you’re free to go.”

 _Samples._ Oh god, he’d meant that line literally. This guy was crazy, and he’d somehow drugged Dean and brought him to his basement to harvest his organs. Dean squirmed, tugging at his restraints, but finding them without give.

“Dean.”

The sound of Castiel saying his name, quiet yet commanding, reverberated through Dean, stunning him for a moment.

“I’m not going to hurt you. With your cooperation, this won’t take more than ten minutes.” Castiel hesitated, then continued with visible reluctance, “If you’ve changed your mind, I can let you go right now. But it’s doubtful that I’d have the time to find someone else, and I need these samples to show my superiors.”

Dean stared up at him, torn between curiosity and relief. He wasn’t sure why, but something about Castiel made him sure that he was telling the truth. That he would let Dean go if asked. “What do you need those samples for?”

“To better understand human biology.”

Dean laughed. “ _Human_ biology? Then what the hell does that make you?"

“An alien.”

Dean waited for a moment, but Castiel just looked back at him, expression dead serious. 

An alien. Sure. Why not? It was as good an explanation as any, wasn’t it? Either that, or Dean was currently passed out in a puddle of his own vomit. Both scenarios seemed about as likely right now.

“Guess that makes me Mulder,” Dean muttered to himself. Then, a little louder, “Okay, fine, let’s just get this over with.” 

Castiel nodded curtly, and turned around, reaching for something on a nearby table Dean hadn’t noticed before. It looked like a popsicle stick, and he unceremoniously stuck it right in Dean’s face.

“Your bedside manners are kinda lacking,” Dean felt the need to point out, but he obediently opened his mouth and let Castiel swab his cheek.

It continued like this, Castiel reaching for some small instrument and taking a sample of Dean’s spit, his sweat, his earwax ( _gross_ ), and a few of his hairs, all the while with an intense expression of concentration on his face. 

Dean tried his best to alleviate the awkwardness he was feeling. “So you’re an alien?”

“Yes.”

“But you look human.”

Castiel finally looked back at Dean. “This visage is temporary. I borrowed it from a man in Illinois.”

Dean’s eyebrows flew up. “What do you really look like, then? Are you green? Big head, black eyes?”

Castiel squinted his eyes at Dean in confusion. “No. I suppose you could say my real appearance is humanoid. Although I do have tentacles.”

And goddammit, Dean clearly needed to lay off the Japanese cartoons, because his dick perked at this new bit of information. He squirmed, face growing hot as he prayed that Castiel wouldn’t notice.

“I’m almost done,” Castiel said. “Now, I need to extract some blood.”

“Blood?” Dean repeated, startled.

“No more than would be taken during a regular donation,” Castiel assured him.

The needle he picked up looked less reassuring, but Castiel’s hands felt surprisingly gentle when he grasped Dean’s arm. 

“You’ve done this before?” Dean asked, swallowing when he felt the needle pierce his skin.

“Not to a human.”

“So I’m your first.” Dean laughed awkwardly. “Human. That you- never mind.”

Castiel thankfully ignored him.

“You done?”

“Almost.” Castiel removed the needle, placing it back on the table. And then he reached for the zipper on Dean’s pants.

Dean jerked. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Castiel frowned, still keeping his hand uncomfortably close to Dean's crotch. "I need a sample of your semen."

"You warned for the blood but not for this?" was stupidly all Dean could think to ask.

"Is this an issue?" Castiel tilted his head. "I understand that humans are sensitive regarding their genitalia, but you have already allowed me to harvest several fluids from your body."

"That's different," Dean insisted.

"How so?"

Dean blanched. Was he really gonna have to explain the birds and the bees to an  _alien_? "How- how do you guys reproduce?"

"Through sexual intercourse, the same as your species." Castiel glanced away, and for the first time, Dean noticed a crack in his calm demeanor. He was  _blushing_. "It is an intimate process, I understand, but this won't be the same."

"What were you planning on doing?"

Castiel reached for the table again, picking up a small, funny looking cup and a something that was definitely a dildo, although it didn't look quite like any Dean had ever seen. "I was going to place this," he raised the cup, "on the tip of your penis, and massage your prostate with this." He raised the dildo, his cheeks growing even redder.

"Oh." Dean swallowed. "Um."

"I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't need to," Castiel reminded him, and Dean could tell he was trying his best to look as serious before. The blushing kind of ruined the effect, though.

Dean let out a nervous laugh. "You sure know how to make a guy feel special."

"I didn't mean- you're very attractive." Castiel's eyes widened. "Not that it is of any import, but-"

"Cas," Dean cut in. "Just- make it quick, okay?"

"That depends on you."

Dean snorted. "Just get me out of my pants already."

He half expected Castiel to snap back into serious-scientist mode, but thankfully that didn't happen. His movements were careful, deliberate, as he pulled off Dean's pants and underwear, but the red flush had reached his ears, and his lips quirked in a small smile when he looked back up at Dean.

"I'm going to need to prepare you manually," he said in an apologetic tone.

Dean shrugged, trying and probably failing to come off as nonchalant seeing as how his dick was already growing hard. "Whatever you gotta do."

Castiel nodded, mostly to himself, and unceremoniously grabbed Dean's dick.

Dean yelped. "Gentle!"

"Oh." Castiel loosened his grip, staring curiously at Dean's dick like he'd never seen one before. Hell, for all Dean knew, he hadn't. Certainly hadn't handled one before. "Is this better?"

"Yeah." Dean cleared his throat. "Just, uh, pump it, I guess."

"I've done some research on this," Castiel admitted. "It usually looks like it takes a lot of force for a penis to become erect."

"You've been watching  _porn_?"

That was... surprisingly hot. Dean swallowed down a whimper, trying to resist the urge to thrust back up into Castiel's hand. As far as handjobs went, this was pretty sub-par, but Dean still found himself growing hard in record time. Maybe it was being tied down, or the fact that Castiel was a literal goddamn alien. Or maybe Dean had a kink he hadn't yet discovered for being treated like someone's lab project, who the hell knew at this point.

He got so into it that he didn't notice Castiel breaking out the lube until he felt two fingers prodding clumsily at his entrance.

"One at a time," he warned.

Castiel did as told, pumping one finger slowly inside, stroking at Dean's inner walls until he stumbled on his prostate. Dean let out a half-choked moan, hips involuntarily bearing down, forcing Castiel's finger in deeper.

"Oh," Castiel said softly. "You feel... warm."

"You can add another finger," Dean said, not really knowing how to respond to that comment.

Castiel did, avoiding his prostate this time to focus on stretching him out. "I knew you would be warm, but I suppose I hadn't given it much thought."

Dean groaned. Apparently, they were sticking with the subject. "Your species aren't warm inside?"

"We are," Castiel said. "But I haven't..."

He trailed off, but Dean got the picture. "Wait, you're a virgin?"

"I haven't taken the time to pick a mate yet," Castiel responded primly, twisting his fingers inside Dean.

"Oh, fuck." Dean pumped his hips down, doing the best he could to move in sync with Castiel. "You only get one?"

"We only need one." Then, much to Dean's dismay, he removed his fingers. "You're prepared."

He reached for the cup, fastening it around the now engorged tip of Dean's cock. Dean squirmed, not sure if the sudden tightness felt good or not. "You can have sex just for fun, you know. It doesn't have to be about mating."

"Some of us do," Castiel admitted. "But it isn't particularly common."

"And you've never felt the urge-" Dean bit down on his lip, cutting himself off.

Castiel had picked up the weird-looking dildo and was positioning the tip of it at Dean's hole. “Are you ready to be penetrated?”

 _Fuck, that shouldn’t be hot, that should_ not  _be hot._ “Yeah.”

The dildo pressed at his entrance, pushing in slowly. It wasn’t exactly big, but it was the biggest thing Dean had had up there in a while, and he had to fight to stay relaxed. It felt smooth, and weirdly warm, like a laptop battery that had been plugged in for a while. It was also just barely vibrating.

Dean was suddenly aware that he’d closed his eyes and opened them. Castiel was looking down at him, observing him being penetrated, but he wasn’t holding the dildo anymore. And yet the dildo was  _still moving_.

“Don’t tell me that’s-” Dean moaned as the dildo thrust inside him the rest of the way, immediately zooming in on his prostate. “That’s a  _robot dildo_?”

Castiel said something, but it was lost on Dean because at that moment the thing began to press insistently against his prostate. It almost felt like it was  _sucking_ on it, creating an overwhelming sensation of pain and pleasure, completely overriding all of Dean’s other senses. 

The toy seemed to sense something was wrong, letting up on the pressure. Dean came back to himself, to Castiel cupping his face and staring at him worriedly.

“I’m fine,” he moaned. The toy kept up its constant assault on his prostate, but softer now. Bearable. 

“Are you sure?”

Dean nodded. “Just... keep touching me.”

He wasn’t sure why he’d said it, but he was glad when Castiel agreed. He looked about the way Dean felt, flushed and wide-eyed, and when his hands began to trail downwards he barely seemed aware of it. He felt warm even against Dean’s overheated skin, hands leaving Dean’s nerves tingling in their wake, just a tease compared to the intensity of the toy inside Dean. 

Castiel glanced downwards, swallowing before experimentally pinching one of Dean’s nipples. Dean whined low in his throat, bucking up into Castiel’s hand, becoming even more turned on when he found the restraints offered no give.

“You’re so responsive,” Castiel said, soft voice filled with something like wonder.

“ _Fuck_ ,” was Dean’s intelligent response.

He was so hard it hurt, the toy inside him giving him no reprieve, but he couldn’t come, not with his dick straining untouched against his belly. Just as he was about to tell Castiel that he needed more, something to push him over the edge, the dildo began to retreat.

“Wha-”

Castiel straightened, reluctantly removing his hands from Dean’s body. “It’s over.”

“Over?” Dean repeated incredulously. “I didn’t come.”

“Achieving orgasm wasn’t essential to the process.” Castiel removed the cup, holding it up so Dean could see. It had sealed shut, half-filled with a cloudy white liquid. “The device was programmed to, er,” he glanced away, “milk you.”

Dean flushed. “Oh. So... that’s it?”

Castiel frowned apologetically and began to remove the restraints still holding Dean down. As he did, Dean felt something hard brush against his thigh. Eyes widening, he glanced down, and  _yep_. He was definitely not the only one who’d gotten excited.

Once freed, he sat up slowly, giving Castiel a contemplative look. “Are you still in a hurry?”

“Not exactly,” Castiel said. “I was given a day - in your terms, roughly thirty hours, to complete my task. I have three left.”

Dean grinned. Plenty of time, then. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling kind of...” he glanced down very deliberately, “tense. What do you say we help each other out?”

“I don’t... that’s not what I came here for,” Castiel said weakly.

“Aren’t you allowed to?”

“Strictly speaking, there are no rules-”

“Don’t you want to?”

Castiel swallowed. He’d started breathing heavily, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “I do,” he admitted. “But there’s something you should know first.”

“Yeah?” Dean tilted his head. “What’s that?”

“I wasn’t intending to show my,” Castiel cleared his throat, “genitalia to any humans. So I didn’t bother to disguise them.”

Dean’s mouth went slack. He looked back at the bulge in Castiel’s pants. Looking closer, he could see faint movement.  _Holy crap._ “You’ve got... tentacles? Down there?”

“I understand if that is a problem-”

“No,” Dean cut him off. “No problem, Cas, believe me.”

He grabbed Castiel’s arm, pulling him in for a kiss. Castiel gasped against his lips, going stiff for a moment. Then he was pushing Dean on his back and climbing on top of him, almost kneeing Dean in the dick in his enthusiasm. He kissed Dean again, briefly, before trailing his lips down his neck, seemingly eager to taste as much skin as he could.

Dean reached for Castiel’s zipper, jerking it down probably hard enough to break it. Something touched his hand, warm and  _squirming_ , and Castiel let out a broken moan against his clavicle.

“Hang on,” Dean said, pushing at Castiel’s chest to get a better look. 

He sat up, eyes glued to Castiel’s crotch. Instead of a dick, there was a small, writhing mass of pale pink tentacles. None of them looked particularly thick, but they were long and there had to be close to a dozen of them.

“You, uh, don’t need to use all of them at once, do you?”

Castiel shook his head. “Even just penetrating you with one would be enough stimulus.”

“Two would be fine,” Dean said immediately, flushing at his own enthusiasm. “Or three, maybe. Whatever.”

“ _Dean,_ ” Cas groaned, voice gone rough and deep. He pulled Dean in for a heated, sloppy kiss, bucking against him and causing his tentacles to rub against Dean’s dick. 

Dean whimpered at the sensation. “You’re killing me, Cas! Just fuck me already.”

“Then spread,” Castiel ordered, which,  _fuck,_ Dean knew he wasn’t trying to talk dirty, but those two words still almost sent him over the edge.

He did as told, wincing a little at the stretch in his inner thighs. But then Castiel was pressing against him again, tentacles stroking Dean’s balls and taint, two of them prodding curiously at his hole. Dean was still wet from the lube and stretched open, so the first tentacle slipped in easily.

It felt about as wide as two of Castiel’s fingers, but the way it moved was unlike anything Dean had ever felt. It thrust further inside him, wriggling against his prostate and causing both him and Castiel to moan. A second tentacle joined it soon after, stretching Dean considerably now, but he barely even noticed. He felt lit up from the inside out, incredibly sensitive. Every sensation of Castiel’s hands and lips on his body was magnified by the feeling of the tentacles pushing into him, and stroking his rim.

Dean pumped his hips up into it, wanting  _more,_ wanting everything Castiel could give him. The two tentacles already inside him were thrusting in turn, one always pressing against his prostate. Dean nearly choked on his tongue when a third started pushing against his rim, seeking entrance. 

“Y-yeah,” he moaned. “Cas,  _please,_ I need-”

And then it was popping inside of him, stretching him wider than he could ever remember being stretched. He felt so full, stuffed to the brim, and it hurt but it felt so  _good._ Dean mindlessly reached between their bodies for his dick, and it only took a few pumps before he was coming, washed away by pleasure so intense he almost blacked out.

Castiel fucked him through it, tentacles swelling near the end, stretching Dean impossibly wider. He groaned, biting down on Dean’s shoulder to muffle it, pumping loads of come out of the tip of every tentacle, on Dean and inside of him.

They laid still for a while, Castiel all but dead weight on top of Dean, both of them panting like they’d just run a marathon. Dean shifted, grimacing when he felt jizz leaking down his inner thighs.

“You’d better not have gotten me pregnant,” he muttered.

Castiel laughed breathlessly. “I assure you, that’s physically impossible.”


End file.
